


Intervention

by OtherCat



Series: OtherCat's Snippets and Incomplete Fic [15]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And horrible accents, Dom/sub, Families of Choice, Fanon, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, The Scooby Gang (BtVS), Torture, so much fanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-07
Updated: 2003-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-04 07:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10271687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OtherCat/pseuds/OtherCat
Summary: Spike brings some disturbing news to Xander: Angelus is somehow back from hell. If that isn't bad enough, the Scoobies know he's still alive. Xander must confront his fears and return to Sunnydale. Good thing he won't be alone.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure when this was actually written. The files on my computer have the wrong dates. I’m going by the dates on my dreamwidth. Which are for some reason, earlier than the dates on my files. I am pretty sure this is from 2003/2004 if not earlier. 
> 
> Also, there is a second version with a slightly different opening that I might or might not post as a second chapter. 
> 
> This is sadly, a "super Xander" fic, where Xander more or less fills in the slot that Angel fills in Angel the Series. I was largely influenced by a Xander-bashing fic and my irritation over the one-note portrayal of abuse/rape victims in the fan fic I was seeing. (Both in the bashing fic and elsewhere. This is a Thing in my writing, even now.)

As demon bars went, Caritas was pretty unusual. Fighting was prohibited, and the rule was magically enforced. There were almost as many humans as demons scattered about the room, for one thing, humans who didn't have the nervous look of prey, who chatted amiably with beings who would normally consider them meals--but didn't, not in Caritas, or in the two block radius around it. There were demons from clans that had been feuding for generations chatting it up throughout the room, and at the bar, a vampire was (bizarrely) getting into a religious debate with a rabbi, and a priest. 

After a few minutes of the usual just-entering-a-bar disorientation, Spike found who he was looking for, sitting at one of the tables nearest the stage, where a three-headed dog man was butchering "Enter Sandman." Spike gave a mental shudder. Sometimes he thought Xander picked this place just for the pure sadistic glee of torturing him with kareoke. "I'm surprised your mum let's you out this late, love," Spike said, sitting opposite the young man. The boy's partners had it in for vamps--had it in for him in particular, and never mind that he had been as much of a part of Xander's life as they had for the past four years.

 

> **You're safe now love, he'll never hurt you again.**
> 
> **Never going to be safe again.**

 

Xander's lips twitched into a smile, though the expression never reached his dark eyes. "'Mum' is trying not to look like a cop turned private eye on a stake out three tables back," Xander said. "'Dad, if you were wondering, is lurking by the bar, ignoring Lorn's efforts to make him sing. The only reason big brother isn't here is because I threatened to steal his guitar strings and use them for trip wires."

"And yer evil twin?" Spike asked, referring to the black bloke that sometimes worked with Xander on a case. Spike had seen Kate, but hadn't noticed the Doyle at the bar. _And no sorcerously ept ex-lawyer threatenin' to lay a mojo smack down on me,_ Spike thought with some relief. Xander didn't have many friends, but the ones he did have were loyal and fanatically protective of him. _Including me, I suppose._

 

> **What am I to you, Spike? What do you want from me? Why are you helping me?**
> 
> **If I thought you were ready to hear the answer, I'd tell you, mate.**
> 
> **As it stands, I'll just let you figure it out for yourself.**

 

The smile on Xander's face faded. "He had a little throw-down with his crew over something," he said in a cold voice. "He's...talking things over with them." A human ear would have missed the slight tremor in the whelp's voice, would have missed the change in the whelp's heart beat, the way it quickened with anger. For the formerly emotionally demonstrative young man, this was the equivalent of clenched-jawed, red eyed rage.

_Wonderful,_ Spike thought... _he's in no shape to hear what I've come t'tell him._ On the other hand, _not_ telling him was definitely, as the Slayer would put it _not_ of the good. "Nothin' too serious, I hope?" Spike asked, testing the waters.

"They tried to wreck Caritas," Xander said in his low, calm voice. His low, calm, _angry_ voice. Xander, in his odd, cracked fashion regarded the bar as being the next best thing to sacred ground. Anyone who dared to cause trouble inside the bar, or outside of it usually ended up facing the wrong end of a cross bow or a knife in the dark. A brassed off Xander, while a lovely sight to see in action, was not a Xander Spike wanted to face this side of the Hellmouth, even if he hadn't been chipped. He knew that Xander felt he owed Lorn his life as well as his sanity, and had proved on more than one occasion that he'd go to any length to help the green-skinned demon.

"Why'd they do that then, mate?" Spike asked, but Xander shook his head.

"Not my story, go ask Gunn, if you're curious."

Spike snorted. "Not likely, whelp. Yer twin isn't any too fond of me."

"I wonder why that is?" Xander said with mock innocence. He smiled again. "So, what's the word from Sunnyhell?"

Spike...considered what to say. There was no way he could soften this for the young man. "They know," the vampire said, and looked away. "They know you're alive."

"How did they find out?" Something cold and dark slid over the young man's eyes, and his face was like a mask made of ivory.

"It wasn't me, that told 'em Xan--it was the cheerleader you used to snog with...seems she never believed th' story I told them, that the Sire killed you...seems she hired a private investigator to look for you--"

" _Cordelia_ did that?" Xander said with real surprise coloring his tone. Spike wondered if the boy was surprised that the cheerleader cared about him, or if he was surprised that Cordelia had done something about it.

"Yeah, th' cheerleader's done some growing up--not so shallow anymore, love," Spike said. "She told the Slayer, and they and Red got a bit sharp with me, for having lied about it all this  time. They all wanted to troop down here, but I talked 'em out of it. Promised I'd try to talk you into going down there."

Had given them an extremely edited version of the actual events, but had told them. Told them what they knew, about Xander, about Angelus, but not going into details. How it had been Dru, who had died that night, not Xander. But not why. How the boy ended up in L.A., how Xander got his G.E.D., and got into college--with some help from a half demon and a cop. How Xander was a private-eye, working with the now former cop. Not telling them, of course, about why Spike had helped get Xander set up so he wouldn't be living on the street, or that the reason for the vampire's frequent disappearances had been because he was up in L.A. helping the boy. Not explaining a great many things, except that they shouldn't try contacting Xander.

 

> **Love, if you want, I'll tell them...I'll tell them the truth.**
> 
> **No. Maybe someday, but not now. I'm not...I just don't want them to pity me. I'd rather they just grieve for me, and let it go.**
> 
> **Love, I don't think anyone could.**

 

Xander nodded. "Thanks, not sure I could have dealt with seeing them pop up here," Xander said calmly. There was a slight tremor in his hands, as he lifted his glass however.

"And...that's not all," Spike said hesitantly. Xander looked up at Spike sharply.

"What, they want me to go down there, sure, I can do that--it's been what, four years?" Xander shrugged. "I can handle it."

"Angel's back," Spike said, not quite meeting Xander's eyes.

"Angelus is _dead,_ " Xander snarled.

"Far as I knew, he was, Xan," Spike said. "Somehow or another, he came back--"

"They let him out of hell for bad behavior or something?" Xander asked harshly. "How long?" It looked like Xander was getting ready to get up from the table, like he thought Angelus might be nearby. Not to run away though, there was pure killing fury in the young man's eyes.

 

> **I won't let Angelus hurt you again. The bastard's going down.**

 

Spike swallowed. "'Bout six months ago." Xander looked murderously at the vampire.

"Tell me you just found out, Spike," Xander said harshly. From the corner of his eye, Spike could see Lorn, the owner of the bar sail toward them, a concerned look on his face. Xander caught sight of him at the same moment, and looked faintly chagrinned. The human took a deep breath, and visibly forced himself to relax.

"Is this fashion don't bothering you, Xander?" Lorn asked. Spike growled.

"I _can_ beat up demons, you poof."

"Then I'd have to kick your ass,"Xander said. "Which would wreck the bar, which would annoy Lorn, and Kate would ground me. So don't." He smiled up at Lorn. "The Bleached One gave me some news I didn't want to hear," he explained.

"Oh, well, don't kill the messenger, at least not in my bar," Lorn said with a smile. The demon gave Xander a concerned look. "If you need to talk kid, the doctor is always in," he said, and headed back toward the bar.

"I--knew, Xander," Spike said hesitantly when Xander returned his attention to the vampire.

"And you didn't tell me-- _why_?"

 

"Whistler told me not to tell you, anyway. Not 'til the time was right." The vampire shifted uncomfortably under the human's dark glare.

"And the time is right, otherwise you wouldn't be telling me?"

"That's about the size of it, mate," Spike said.

"Why?"

Spike shook his head. "Whistler said he'd tell you when you got to Sunnyhell, mate."

 

> **Ye'll tell me, Will, ye hate me enough t' tell the truth. How'd the boy die? Was it a suicide's death that damned him? Was it murder, or did ye turn him? Tell me! Please, William, tell me!**
> 
> **You don't have to do this, if you don't want to, Xander.**
> 
> **Then why ask 'im, mate?**

 

_I should have brought Doyle or Kate_ , Xander thought as he, Spike, Lindsey and Gunn walked down the street to the book store where he'd be meeting his friends for the first time in years. He felt excited, jittery, happy...terrified, sick, nervous. Though none of this showed on his face, Lindsey and Gunn were picking up on it...probably because of a certain blond vampire becoming more and more agitated as the day had gone on. _Thank you, oh emotional barometer, remind me to repay you, with holy water in your blood bag..._ Now Lindsey and Gunn were going all protective on him, showing their support by making like body gaurds as they walked down the street.

 

> **If you had any idea of what was done to him.**
> 
> **I do know...I live with that knowledge every day.**
> 
> **I lived it, Whistler. Do you think I want to relive it?**

 

The store seemed to come up too fast to suit Xander's jittery nerves, and he would have liked a moment to gather his thoughts, but a bell above the door went _din-dingding!_ as Lindsey held it open. Gunn stepped inside next, followed by Xander and Spike. All three of them were making like this was enemy territory, Xander was so busy being embarrassed by this display of protectiveness, he at first didn't register the small group by the checkout counter.

Willow stood in the foreground, and dear god, she'd really grown up. Shoulder length red hair framed features that had grown out of their adolescent perkiness into true loveliness. There was a graceful, confident air to his childhood friend, and the clothes she wore reflected and enhanced an air of understated elegance and taste. She was flanked by Buffy, on the right, who hadn't changed by very much to look at, except that she was now wearing her hair back into a long, french braid, and somehow, even though she was just standing there, she seemed more mature. On Willow's left was a lazy-eyed young man with red, purple-streaked hair. Directly behind Buffy was Giles, no longer in tweed, which was something of a shock. Behind the counter...was Cordelia. She'd also had her hair cut, and colored to a lighter brown, with blond streaks. He'd known about these differences, had been told about them...but he was still startled by the changes.

They were staring at him as if they'd seen a ghost. _Well duh, they thought you_ were _dead_. Or as if they couldn't believe the changes they were seeing in _him_...and there were a few. He knew that he'd filled out in the past four years, and gained at least an inch or two in height. There was the earring, a single gold hoop in his left ear, and the mustache that, when he'd first grown it, Spike had claimed made him look like a pirate, or a highwayman. And those were just the surface, physical changes.

 

> **Xander, I'm not asking you to forgive him. Believe me, it's not a requirement. Just help him, if you can.**
> 
> **And if I can't? If I'd rather just stake him?**
> 
> **If that's what you have to do.**

 

Xander tried for a smile. "Hey guys, long time, no see." They were still giving him the ghost-look, and for a moment, Xander thought things would be bad. Then Willow was in his arms, and they were all around him, crying, touching, talking in a babble of voices. Even Giles, in a reserved, "excuse me, I'm English and must clean the tear fog off my glasses" kind of way. Even Cordelia, which in it's own way was even more of a shock, but it was a nice sort of shock.

"Xander, you _are_ alive," Buffy was saying, one hand on the crook of his arm, the other wiping at her tears. "Cordelia said you were, but--but it didn't seem real until you walked through the door." Watery green eyes peered up at him. "I'm so sorry--I had d-dreams, about what happened, what Ang--*he* did--I'm so sorry I--" Xander pulled Buffy into an embrace, wrapping an arm about her waist, while she slid her arms about his, hugging him tightly, and sniffling into his shoulder.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Lindsey and Gunn grinning goofily at him. Xander ignored them, and instead worked on comforting the upset Slayer and Willow. "Hey," Xander said, hugging her back. "Nothing to be sorry for, okay? Nobody's fault, just stupid, rotten luck, right?"

"Why did you let us think you were dead, Xand?" Willow asked in a trembly voice. "Were you angry with us? Did you think we didn't care about you--or," Her eyes narrowed angrily, and she stepped back a little to glare at Spike. "You are so dead mister, if you made him think any thing bad about himself--" She pulled away completely from Xander, and began to stalk toward Spike, who was hastily backing up. Gunn and Lindsey chuckled nastily at the sight of the tiny red-head getting ready to attack the vampire--until they saw the real panic in Xander's eyes.

That, and the greenish sparks dancing about Willow's clenched fists.

"Now Red, don't be hasty, it was Xander's own idea--Xan, tell her!" The vampire said, backing up until he ran into a bookcase.

Xander pulled free of the Buffyhug and caught up with  Willow, placing himself between Spike and the witch, bringing her up short. "Wills, it's alright. It was my own idea, not to tell you--he went along with it, because I asked him too."

"He _kidnapped_ you...how do we know Spike hadn't brainwashed you?" Cordelia said angrily. 

_"Kidnapped?"_ Both Lindsey and Gunn chorused, now adding their glares to the figurative deathrays being aimed toward Spike.

"We never heard _that_ part of the story," Gunn said, "never heard that at all--just 'we came to L.A. to avoid a bad situation' never said that the _punk_ was the bad situation."

"Like bloody _hell_ \--" Spike said, starting to stalk toward Gunn. The demon hunter stepped back with the universal gesture meaning "bring it on!" pulling a stake out from his jacket pocket.

"Guys?" Xander asked sharply. "Ruining the family togetherness thing here." Both glanced at him, glanced at each other, then backed away. _Jeez, way to look like a team, guys._ "Technically, yeah, Spike kidnapped me. _Doyle_ has the details, you have the summary, Lindsey has the highlights--" Xander said placatingly.

"Yeah, man," Gunn said, then glanced at Lindsey. "But I'm gonna be asking questions, later."

"Do we get the Cliff's Notes?" Cordelia asked, coming around from the counter. Her dark eyes were bright with anger, chin tilted up with a quick jerk as she tossed her short, streaked hair back. "Because I personally would like to know why I had to hire a private eye to find out if you were alive or not."

"Over dinner?" Xander asked. "I think I saw an Olive Garden over by the mall?"

"An excellent suggestion Xander," Giles said finally. "Perhaps once introductions are made, we could go there?"

Xander nodded, relieved that there hadn't been a fight. He moved to stand closer to the red-headed witch. "Gunn, Lindsey, this is my best friend since pre-school, Willow," he nodded to the Slayer, "this is my friend Buffy, the Vampire Slayer, and Giles is her Watcher." He hesitated a moment. How do you introduce a high school crush? Or your best friend since pre-school's werewolf boyfriend?

"Oz," the werewolf said, as if he was also a telepath, and knew exactly why Xander had hesitated.

"Cordelia Chase," Cordy said with a charming smile bestowed impartially on both Gunn and Lindsey.

Lindsey turned up the full wattage of his own smile as he stepped forward to shake hands. "Lindsey McDonald, I'm pleased to finally meet all of you...Xander hasn't told us nearly enough about you."

Xander winced mentally, pretty sure that comment was addressed to him.

"Charles Gunn," the demon hunter introduced himself with a nod. "Lookin' forward to getting to know you all."

Xander winced again. _Definitely_ to his address. This was going to be a _great_ dinner. Grilled Xander was looking to be the main course.

 

* * *

 

By some silent agreement, very little was said on the way to the restaurant, or while they waited for tables. Xander maneuvered the seating arrangement so that he'd be seated in a booth next to Spike. Cordy and Buffy were sitting across from him, and Willow and Oz shared a table with Lindsey, while Giles was seated at the same table as Gunn. The silence held, broken only when the waitress arrived to take their orders. Questions were served up along with the appetizers.

"So, why did you dump all your friends and make like you were dead?" Cordelia asked, glaring. Her tone was somewhere between the imperious, tactless cheerleader, and the strong willed--and equally tactless--woman she had become.

"Short answer? Some people can't stand watching a good dog being abused," Xander said, ignoring the sudden, quick looks Lindsey and Gunn were exchanging, or the worried one Willow turned on him.

"Good dog?" Cordelia asked, brow furrowing. "What the hell does that mean?"

 

> **Not a kitten after all, My Angel, but a little mastiff pup.**
> 
>  

"It's what Drusilla called me, I won't go into why. Angelus usually called me 'here' or 'Boy'," he knew he'd spoken a little too harshly, by the awkward silence that followed, but couldn't stop himself. Didn't want to visit--or revisit--the memory of what had led her to calling him that.

 

> **Not going to punish the boy for loyalty, are you mate?**
> 
> **Ah well, you have a point, Spike--I suppose I'll have to punish you for not keeping him under control then, won't I?**

 

Their dinners arrived, and Xander made a show of being busy eating, while he tried to find a way to explain why he'd...left. _Kate and Doyle have asked harder questions, hell,_ Lorn _has...why is this so hard?_ "I couldn't stay in Sunnydale, not after what happened," he said finally.

Cordelia frowned. "So how did you get the peroxide abuser to go along with this?" She asked, and glared at Spike. "Or was it his idea to cut you off from your friends in the first place?"

"I wasn't in much of a condition to argue, at the time, Cordy," Xander said, in a slightly warmer voice.

"So it _was_ his idea." The glare Cordy directed at Spike was pure death. "So why didn't you just bring him HOME, oh-soon-to-be-dust-bunny?"

"And what could you have done for 'im?" Spike demanded with a growl. "Couldn't go to a state hospital, could he? They'd never let him out, what with him talkin' about vampires and such...no home, 'is parents kicked 'im out." Spike's voice got louder, and much angrier as he spoke, and his eyes were gold-flecked with agitation. 

"We would have taken him in!" Cordelia said, outraged. "He's our FRIEND! We would have done whatever we needed to!"

"I wanted him _out_ of Sunnyhell!" Spike growled, loud enough to cause other diners to look toward their tables. Xander gave Spike a warning look, but the vampire ran on. "As far away from what that bastard did as I could take him...stopped over in LA, till he could get his head on straight--" 

"Spike..." Xander said, raising his own voice slightly. Spike's mouth snapped shut, and he sat back in his seat with an audible _thump_ , glaring impartially at everyone.

Cordelia looked between the two of them, a perplexed frown on her face. "So why did you have him lie to us?" She said finally, speaking to Xander. "Why did you try to make us think you were dead?"

Xander looked away, made uncomfortable by the mix of concern and outrage the ex-cheerleader was expressing. In his head, she was still the most popular girl in school. Still the abrupt, hard as nails rich girl who was more concerned about her own popularity than with anything else. Still the girl he was convinced had never, and could never love him. That she had never believed that he had died, that she was so obviously hurt that he'd never tried contacting her or the others...was mind-boggling.

"S'not like I didn't try talking him out of it," Spike muttered, staring at his plate and the remains of his chicken ravioli.

Cordelia's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in suspicion. " _You_ tried to convince him to come back?"

"No, just t' drop you a line at least..." Spike said, still not looking up at Cordelia. Or Xander. Like he was feeling guilty...or was trying to convince the cheerleader he was feeling guilty. Cordelia though, didn't  look like she was buying it.

Neither was Xander.

"Only because you hated the idea of skulking around, watching their _backs_..." Xander pointed out.

Spike growled, blue eyes flecked with yellow. "I'm evil, aren't I?"

"You had him SPYING on us?" Cordelia demanded, voice rising for a moment just above the general background noise. Diners at other tables looked briefly in their direction, then turned back to their own conversations.

Xander concentrated on looking innocent, something telling him that he did _not_ want Cordelia angry with him. But from the way she was glaring at both him _and_ Spike, innocent wasn't going to do it. Gunn and Lindsey snickered.

Cordelia turned the deathglare at both of them. "What are YOU two laughing at?"

"Nothin'," Gunn said, with a nearly straight face.

Lindsey nodded. "What he said."

Cordelia gave them both a very superior sort of look "That's what I thought." She turned back to Spike. "You were spying on us," she repeated.

"Watching out for you guys...for me..." Xander corrected.

"And you trusted him?" Buffy asked, with an odd look on her face. Like she was picking up on something, but wasn't quite sure of what it was. 

"Yes," Xander said firmly. "He...took care of me, Buffy. He didn't have to, he could have just let Drusilla--" He stopped, just stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

A pale, snarling face with long, dark hair swam before his mind's eye. Invisible fingers seemed to be wrapped around his throat. _No. She's not here. I'm breathing, not strangling. I'm sitting, not flat on my back. Nononononononono._ The fingers seemed to ease, and he was aware of Spike rubbing his back in soothing little circles, and the voice of their waiter asking if there was something wrong. He could hear Lindsey assuring the waiter that everything was alright, with Giles hesitantly backing him up.

"I'm fine," he managed to say, after a few more deep breaths. He opened his eyes, and tried to smile. He could see that no one was buying it, but were mostly willing to pretend. "Really," he said.

Buffy frowned. "That didn't look like 'fine,'" she said. "That looked more like 'extremely not-fine.'" She gave him a fierce, concerned look, like a worried lioness. "What happened, Xander?"

>  
> 
> **"I'm so sorry--I had d-dreams, about what happened, what Ang--he did--I'm so sorry I--"**

 

"Nothing," Xander said, and looked away from the lioness-look in his friend's eyes. _I never wanted you to know..._ She knew. Not everything, but she *knew*. How much did the rest of them know? For a moment, his

insides turned to ice, and he wanted very desperately to leave, to get away. The only thing that kept him in his seat was the fact that Spike had the aisle seat, and that he wouldn't budge an inch if he thought Xander was going to try running off. Which by the worried look the vamp was giving him, was in fact the case. "Nothing I want to go into right now," he said softly.

"What...what _can_ you tell us?" Willow asked, one hand reaching out to him, as if she wanted to comfort him.

"Spike...Spike took care of me, after. Helped me get Emancipated Minor status, got us an apartment, helped me get my head back together."

"Where did Spike get money for an apartment?" Cordelia said. "He's usually broke...or do I not want to know?" 

Spike smirked. "Angelus had money invested here and there, princess, it wasn't all that hard to get access to it."

Xander nodded in agreement. "Yeah. So anyway, we ended up staying in LA." 

Cordelia looked like she wanted to pursue the money issue, but instead said. "And started the 'Powers' Detective Agency.' With no one named 'Powers'." It should have been a statement, but it sounded more like a question.

"Yeah," Xander said, "We liked the name."

Spike smirked. "Yeah, appropriate like, considering." 

"Considering what?" Buffy asked.

Xander glared at Spike. Doyle and his visions was just about the last thing he wanted to try to explain to his friends. _"Yeah, he has visions. From the Powers that Be. No, really." That's going to be easy to explain, I don't think._ Spike submissively lowered his gaze, bowing his head slightly. Despite that, his voice was firm. "Going to have to tell them eventually, love."

The word "nothing," was just on the tip of his tongue, flippant and a little cold, abrupt even. "Nothing"-- as easy as it would be to say, would actually mean _something_ and it would eventually be pried out of him. Spike was giving him his best sad, contrite look. _Oh, don't you even try it, you are so getting it, later tonight..._ Still, Xander couldn't help but smirk a little. "The shit I let you get away with," he said. Spike looked smug.

"...Never lets us get away with that kind of stuff," Lindsey muttered.

Spike leered. "Oh, I'll pay later, running up quite the tab already, I am."

Xander felt his cheeks heat. _Oh, you'll pay, alright..._ Buffy, Cordelia and Willow looked confused by the exchange, while Giles...Giles looked like a man who had found a clue, but didn't quite know what to do with it. But never mind that, Xander had other fish to fry. He took a breath, and tried to organize what he was going to say. "Considering that one of my partners ...gets visions, bolt from the blue, with the emphasis on 'bolt' he gets these mind melting migraines, which he says come straight from the Powers That Be." Xander shrugged, summoning a skeptical expression as he said the very last. Mentally apologizing to Doyle for the slight misdirection. "Where ever they come from, they've really been useful," Xander said with another shrug.

Giles nodded. "And...is that where you get a majority of your clients? From these visions?"

"Some of them, others are walk-ins, and some are cases that Whistler throws our way." And the only reason he was letting _that_ particular cat out of the bag was because he knew that Whistler had been in contact with Buffy since Spike had decided to side with the Slayer against Angelus. Xander tried not to smirk. _Yes, share the love._ If he had to "out" himself on so many fronts, Whistler might as well be fingered as an accomplice.

"Like this case," Gunn said, frowning. "Which I still don't get what it is."

Xander glanced at Gunn. "If you've figured out a way to not hear Spike griping, I want to know what it is."

Gunn shook his head irritably. "No man, listen. We get sent here, to meet up with some vamp that has a history with Xan...And I want to know, why bother?" Gunn glanced at Buffy, dismissively. "Don't know about this Slayer thing, but aren't you supposed to _kill_ vampires?"

"Oi!" Spike protested, but Gunn didn't even glance the vampire's way, instead opting to glower at the now flustered Slayer. No, not flustered, furious.

"Angel had a soul. I loved him. He lost his soul. He hurt my friends. He got his soul back. I sent him to hell. He came back," Buffy said in sharp, brittle phrases, her face a cold, distant mask.

Gunn blinked. "Isn't that a little out of order?" 

Buffy stared at him. "No."

"So you sent him to hell _after_ he got his soul back?" Lindsey asked hesitantly.

"That seems sort of...fucked," Gunn said slowly.

"Welcome to the Hellmouth," Buffy said sarcastically. "Angelus was going to open a portal to hell. The only way to close it, was to shove him through."

Gunn looked mildly stunned. "Gotcha," he managed to say after a few moments.

There was another silence, this time centered around Buffy, instead of around Xander. He couldn't bring himself to feel relieved. Buffy was  hurting, and he hadn't been there for her. Not that he could have been. He'd been a wreck, barely able to step outside the rules of behavior Angelus had beaten into him. Not capable of functioning at all as an independant individual, let alone a friend.

 

> **There's a good lad. Isn't it so much easier when ye mind me?**

 

Buffy was looking at him with haunted, guilty eyes, as if she blamed her self for what had happened to him. _No, not your fault Buff, only me. My fault._ His fault for everything Angelus had been able to get away with, his fault for attracting Angelus' attention in the first place. His fault for not escaping, no matter what Spike said otherwise. Xander drank some of his lemonade before speaking again. "So where the hell--sorry. Where is Angelus?"

Spike snickered. Xander didn't even glance back at the vampire. "Don't get yourself into _too_ much trouble, you wouldn't like it." Xander said, still not looking at Spike. He didn't have to look, to know that Spike was leering at him. The speculative look in Giles' eye was even more intent than before, but Xander pretended he didn't notice. "So, where is he?"

Buffy, meanwhile, frowned. "Do I want to know what that meant?" She asked rhetorically, then shook her head. "Never mind. When...he came back--"

"They thought there was another werewolf--not fun," Oz interjected.

"I presume you knew better?" Lindsey asked, with a speculative look of his own, as Oz nodded.

"So what happened?"

"It--it was Angel," Willow said in a tiny voice. "We had to use nets, and a trank gun."

Giles nodded, and continued the story. "We confined him, and for a great many days, he didn't seem to know where he was, or who we were...he's currently in a...kennel of sorts, in the cellar of the Magic Shop. For a time, once the initial...feralness...wore off, he seemed to recognize us, and his surroundings. He...asked for you."

Xander felt a chill at that. "What did he want to know?" He asked harshly.

"If--if you were alive, and if not, how you died. If you'd been turned," Willow said.

"In between bouts of beggin' the Slayer or Giles or even the Princess to kill him, and talking to himself....arguing like..." Spike said smugly.

"About?" Xander asked. 

Giles frown thoughtfully. "About what happened to him...in hell. And...and what he did you," Giles said, then after a careful pause--"And what he claims you did to him...in hell."

Xander stared. "Say _what_?" 

 

* * *

 

There hadn't been a body, but in Sunnydale, that was no guarantee that there hadn't been a death. Before Spike had disappeared for parts unknown, presumably driving off into the moonset with Drusilla, he had presented her with a gift. A small, antique looking box of rosewood and brass. The box had contained the grainy, gray ash of a dusted vampire.

She had thought that the ashes had been Xander. That Angelus had turned him, and that Spike had killed the demon her friend had become. _"This wasn't part of the deal,"_ Spike had said in an accent that was closer to Giles' than to the one he usually used. _"But the boy, he wanted you to have them."_

Buffy had taken the box from Spike, with hands that felt as nerveless and clumsy as blocks of wood. She had clutched that box to her chest, tearless, numb with grief. Xander dead. Angelus in hell. A box of ashes, and a mother who had thrown her out of the house, Giles in the hospital, and she had been expelled from school...too much, all too much. Someone was screaming, and it had taken her a moment to realize that it was herself. That she had fallen to her knees, and was screaming, rage and pain and grief bleeding out of her through her voice.

Whistler had found her in the mansion, trying to tear the place down bare handed. His presence had given her something to focus on in her rage, someone rail at, someone to listen. Someone to talk her down from the the heights of her rages, someone who's only link to Angel...to Angelus had been that of teacher to student. Her teacher. Her friend.

And apparently, also Xander's.

 

> **You knew he was alive! How could you hide this from me?**
> 
> **You hid it from yourself, Buffy.**

 

What Whistler had said when she had confronted him about the deception hadn't made sense at first--she'd been too angry to think. Until she remembered the dreams. The first dream. Xander in the library at the old school, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt, a back pack at his feet. "Don't worry about me, Buffster," the dream-Xander had said with a sad smile. "I've got someone to take care of me, now." Xander had nodded to indicate a second person--Spike--who stepped out of the shadows of one of the stacks, game-faced, and put his arm around Xander's shoulders.

 

> **You've got nothing to worry about at all, pet.**

 

So much could change in four years. The sweet, smart mouthed guy she had known had been replaced by a quiet, dark-eyed stranger. The only traces of the boy she had known had been the occasional barbed comment, and a flashing grin that would briefly light his face. Still Xander in most ways, but harder. It had been strange seeing the two men that had come with him almost snapping to attention when he'd spoken sharply, or the way Spike--Spike, of all people--seemed to hover over him. Strange, and almost familiar. As if she were remembering something that had happened long ago, to someone else. And perhaps she had been, because she had continued to dream about Xander--past, present and future, hopelessly tangled with surreal conversations and cryptic comments.

Buffy shivered a little and sipped her hot chocolate. After dinner, they had gathered at her house, to exchange first impressions, and share information with those who hadn't been present at the dinner. Joyce was sitting in her favorite chair, her cup of hot chocolate sitting ignored on a table as she listened to Giles and Willow. Faith was trying to scratch an itch under the cast on her arm, and Wesley was listening in with a frown, in between telling Faith to stop scratching. Faith of course, ignored him.

"I can't get over how different he seems, from what you told me," Joyce said.

"...He appears to have done well for himself," Giles replied, almost hesitantly.

"From what he's told you," Wesley said. "Which it seems, is very little, especially concerning his relationship with Spike."

_Relationship, ohmygod._ Like a light bulb going off, Buffy suddenly realized exactly what had been going on between Spike and Xander during dinner. "Ohmygod," she gasped, feeling her face heat in a blush.

"Flirting! Xander was _flirting_ with Spike!"

"Ewww!" Cordelia said, "The PI I hired said that Xander had a boyfriend, but not that it was Spike!"

Buffy stared wide eyed at Cordelia. "You _knew_ and didn't _tell_ us?" She said, outraged.

"Well, I will grant it is a bit of a shock," Giles commented with a frown.

"W-why didn't you warn us?" Willow asked.

Cordelia blinked. "Hey, it was enough of a shock that he really _was_ alive, okay? Besides, why would I out him? I'm not _that_ tactless, thank you very much!"

Faith snickered.

Giles smiled a bit at  Cordelia's last, outraged comment, and nodded. "Yes, I quite understand. That had to be Xander's decision." 

"What - what else didn't you tell us?" Willow asked, almost accusingly.

Cordelia glared. " _EXCEPT_ for the little detail about Xander being homosexual, everything the PI told me..."

"You're sure?"

"If you like, I'll let you go over the PI's files," Cordelia offered icily. 

"No, I didn't mean..." Willow said in a wavery, distressed voice. "It's just, he's so different. So...hard."

"He's with _Spike_?? After what happened?" Buffy said. Even though she had realized the nature of their relationship, it still seemed incredible.  Impossible. She had explored every inch of the mansion, she had seen the coffin with air holes punched in the side, the fabric lining it's interior had been shredded, the wood splintered and stained with blood. It had smelled like an outhouse, and there were other stains that she hadn't wanted to look at, let alone attempt to identify. The coffin had been fitted with a lock. She had seen the bloodstained mattress, the chains and "toys." She had seen Angelus' sketch book, lovingly detailing torments and humiliation that Buffy prayed that Xander had never suffered.

"I will remind you, Buffy, that we do not know all that happened to him." Giles said gently. "And they do appear quite, um, attached to each other."

Buffy shuddered. "Angelus did things to Xander that I don't even want to _think_ about," Buffy said softly, a haunted expression on her face. "...And I don't think _Spike_ was entirely free of blame in everything that was done to Xander...attached or not."

Giles became very pale. "The sketch book?" He asked.

When Buffy nodded, tight lipped, at this seeming non sequitur, Cordelia frowned. "Sketch book?" She asked, "What about a sketch book?"

"Angelus' sketch book," the Watcher said woodenly. Grimly. "The contents featured, among others...pictures of-of some of the things..." Giles broke off, with an odd catch to his voice, and he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. "Dear Lord, those pictures!" He half whispered in a shattered voice. Joyce stood up, and crossed the room to Giles, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

"A sketch book?" Cordelia's voice broke the horrified silence. "Of what was done to Xander? What did you do with it?" She demanded.

"It was sent to the Watcher's Council library," Wesley interjected. "It-it should prove a valuable resource--"

"As _what_? 'Faces of Death, the Vampire Chronicles'?!" Cordelia shouted, furious. She glared at Buffy. "How could you do that, Buffy? Just-just, hand over something like that?"

Buffy glared back. "I did what I thought was right. It was important that the Council get the whole story."

"Since when do you care _what_ the Council gets?" Cordelia asked, almost hysterical. "Why couldn't you just give them what Giles wrote in his books?"

"Because the fact that Angelus and Xander were both gone didn't mean that some other vampire wouldn't... wouldn't do that to someone else, some other time. Because the more they know, the more they'll be able to keep Slayers from making all of the stupid mistakes I did..." Buffy said, somewhere between bitterness and anger.

Cordelia looked at Buffy, then away. "I..." she fell silent a moment."I understand."

"Do you think... could Spike have... have _made_ *Xander be his...his..." Willow said, after several tense moments had passed.

"Something else I never want to think about... _ever_ ," Cordelia said emphatically,  "I... very much doubt Xander is being coerced or manipulated in that manner. He certainly did not behave as if he were under Spike's control. If anything..."  Giles said, trailing off, with a nervous cough.

Buffy felt her cheeks heat, remembering the nature of some of the... teasing...that had taken place. The odd little comments about punishment, the strangely _submissive_ *way Spike was acting, not like the Big Bad at all, more like...But Spike? Spike as the--? Buffy wasn't sure if she should be suddenly relieved, or even more disturbed. "It...seemed like they were together in a-a 'Exit to Eden' kind of way..."

It was interesting to see who was blushing or who wasn't, with the mention of the BDSM romance novel. Or who simply looked blank. Her mother was blushing, and hadn't that been strange, the time Buffy had found her reading it in the living room late one night when Buffy had just come in from patrolling. Giles, who coughed nervously, and began to polish his glasses, Wesley, whose ear tips turned pink. Cordelia who looked blank,Willow looked blank, _then_ blushed--then looked absolutely horrified.

"You think - Buffy, if Spike is hurting him, we have to do something! We're his friends!" Willow said.

Giles had another brief nervous coughing fit.

"Ummm...Wills?" Buffy said, but Wills over rode her.

"--And don't tell me we have to let him make his own choices--"

"I kinda think Xander's the one doing the hurting--" Buffy interjected, between one rush of words and the next.

"--'Cause I'm not going to stand by and--What!?" Willow said as Buffy's words registered.

"--To Spike, not the other way around," Buffy finished.

Willow made a little strangled squeak. "X-Xander wouldn't...he wouldn't hurt someone he cared about!" She said, wide eyed.

"Well," Wesley said, ears still pink. "It appears that this Xander _has_ changed a great deal from what you knew of him."

"Wes," Cordelia said kindly, as Willow gave Wesley a look that could peel paint. "Shut up." Wesley's ears reddened even more.

Giles, meanwhile, glanced at Buffy, then away. "That, um, concurs with my conclusion as well. Xander appeared to be the, ah..." the Watcher winced. "...Dominant partner in the relationship."

Cordelia made a "ewww," face. "What I want to know is, was Xander having a...a relationship with Spike when he was still all..." She made a exagerated "grrr" face, and hooked her hands into claws, "'humans are happy meals with legs?' I mean, before he got chipped? I mean, Xander, Unneutered vampire..." She trailed off, then glared suspiciously when Giles' lips twitched into what almost looked like a grin.

"H-he couldn't have. Spike would have bit him!" Willow protested weakly, and curled deeper into her chair, eyes glassy and wide with horror. 

"I mean," Cordelia continued, "if Xander's the Caped Crusader or  something--and it's *so* your fault, Willow, that I've started sounding like you!--Wouldn't he be having to spend most of the night saving people from...Spike?"

"A point to consider, certainly, Cordelia," Giles said after a moment of silence. "I very much doubt Xander would have tolerated Spike killing innocents. Perhaps they renewed their acquaintance after Spike had been...chipped."

"No," Buffy said, shaking her head. "The only time they've been apart, is when Spike's been in Sunnydale. Think about it...Spike got Xander a apartment, helped him get emancipated minor status," Buffy paused. What had Spike done, to do that? Threatened Xander's parents into signing the papers? Perhaps blamed whatever...damage that had been done to Xander on them? Buffy put those questions aside for later. "That takes a lot of time...months anyway," Buffy said, carefully not looking at her mother.

There had been a brief period of time, after Joyce had kicked her out of the house, when Buffy had been looking into EM status. It had been the threat of that, as much as anything else, had shocked Joyce out of her anger with Buffy. "Then he met that Lorn guy Xander mentioned, and then Lindsey, and that vision-guy...Spike was interjecting little comments about stuff that had happened all through the conversation..."

"But... But Xander wouldn't get involved with a killer. He just wouldn't!" Willow protested.

"A killer you baked chocolate chip cookies for," Cordelia pointed out. "A killer who drinks hot chocolate with marshmallows."

"He can't hurt anybody _now_! I'm talking about _then_!" Willow said, glaring at Cordelia.

"A killer, who is apparently umm...subbing for Xander," Buffy said, and felt her cheeks heating.

Cordelia frowned. "A killer, who Xander trusted to watch us, and report back to him."

"It would seem that Xander has an unusual amount of control over this vampire,"  Wesley commented. "It would be fascinating to discover how this came about." His tone was all clinical curiosity, but Giles...blushed.

"I would not care to speculate into such a private matter," Giles said awkwardly.

"But--!" Willow protested.

"Why don't I go make some tea," Giles said quickly before Willow or Wesley could say anything further. He beat a hasty retreat for the kitchen, followed close behind by an equally red-faced Joyce.

Willow looked like she was about to go after Giles, but sat back when Buffy gave her a quick look. "Tomorrow," she said firmly. "You, we, all of us can ask him about it _tomorrow_ *"

Giles poked his head out from the kitchen. "Buffy, I do not think it's really any of our business. Xander seems quite capable of taking care of himself. We must allow him the privilege of making his own choices, even if we do not approve of them."

"If we're going to question what's going on with Xander behind his *back* we might as well get the information from the horse's mouth," Buffy pointed out with typical Slayer logic. Giles sighed, and went back to making tea. 

"Besides!" Willow said, "If Spike is doing something to him, he might need help!"

Cordelia frowned at that. "Ummm...I know it's weird, coming from me, but are you sure you can be...tactful, Willow? You ummm...might hurt Xander's feelings if you go off half-cocked..."

Willow glared at the former cheerleader. "He's my best friend. I'm not going to hurt him!" Then softly, almost menacingly. "And then I'm going to talk to Spike."

Cordelia tried another tack. "Your best friend, who spent the last four years _hiding_ from us, to protect us from _worrying_ about him..."

Willow looked stubborn. "Well, we're worrying now! And I'm not gonna just pretend I don't care if he's OK!"

"I'm not saying you _should_ Willow," Cordelia replied in an oddly gentle tone. "I'm just saying that you should give him space..."

"I can give space! I'm good at space, lots of space, that's me, Willow Rosenberg 'Space girl.'"

Wesley choked on his hot chocolate. 

 

> **Get out of this house! I never want to see your face again!**
> 
> **Dad, wait! Please--**

 

"That's where you used to live?" Gunn asked. He nodded toward the house, with it's peeling paint and weed-choked lawn. There was a broken down car in the driveway that Xander assumed belonged to his Uncle Rory, and the old '78 Chevy belonging to his Dad. This being a Saturday morning, the only thing missing was his Dad and Uncle, under the hood of the wreck, arguing over how to get it running again, while the local Sixties station blared in the background.

"Yeah, home sweet home," Xander said, flippantly.

Xander was taking Lindsey and Gunn on "The Walking Tour of Sunnyhell." Nothing had changed, barring the damage from a few disasters like a giant demon-snake trying to eat the graduating class. Or maybe if there were changes, he just wasn't seeing them, the way the residents seemed to not-notice every thing around them, like the burned out school.

"Didn't get to see much of the town, the last time I was here," Lindsey said with a slight grin.

"You've been here? When?"

"Spike brought me down here, to provide a little legal-ese to um...convince Xan's parents to sign the Emancipated Minor papers," Lindsey said. "It was...quite the experience." 

It had amazed Xander, when Lindsey and Spike had called him during their "visit," how much of a fight his father had put up, over the papers. There was a kind of a logical disconnection, to verbally disown your own child, then turn around and refuse to sign the papers that would make it a legal fact. But, no one had ever accused his Dad of being logical. "It was kind of 'Bad Vamp, Worse Lawyer,'" Xander said. He could laugh about it now, but at the time, his emotions had been on a roller coaster ride throughout the entire ordeal. It had finally taken a phone call from him, before his Dad would sign the papers...and the less he thought about that conversation, the better.

Lindsey snickered. "I pretty much thought Spike was going to go back on his word not to kill anyone when your Dad made some of his comments..."

Xander grinned. "It was all Spike could talk about, for weeks after." What had _really_ been strange though, had been how that little trip had been something of a bonding experience for the vamp and the then-lawyer. They had left more or less as enemies, and had come back as...well, not friends, but something similar. _Bosom rivals? Best opponents?_

Gunn looked sidelong at Xander and Lindsey. "Do I even want to know?"

Xander shook his head. "Nope, trust me on this."

"So, looks like any family reunions are probably off then, right?"

"Probably," Xander agreed with a grin. "Though, it'd be tempting, to just go up there, and say 'hi'!"

"What's next on the tour?" Gunn asked.

"The old highschool, and some of the cemeteries, then we'll swing by the Magic Shop." Xander replied.

"Shopping trip?" Lindsey asked hopefully. Xander nodded.

"Yeah, also, I want to talk with Buffy about maybe letting us patrol with her."

It was almost noon when they arrived at the Magic Shop. Buffy was behind the counter, and Willow was at one of the nearby tables reading a large, leather bound book with gilt edged pages. Both looked up as he, Lindsey and Gunn entered. Willow was frowning, and Buffy...looked as nervous as he still felt. "Hey guys," he said, trying for casual, and almost making it. He knew that there would be more questions today--there would almost have to be. He looked to Lindsey. "You got the shopping list, right?"

Lindsey nodded. "Sure," he said, and moved off into the stacks.

"Shopping list?" Buffy asked.

"Long string of books with Hebrew and Latin titles," Xander explained. "Lindsey's a sorcerer."

"Oh," Buffy said, and looked uncomfortable, and even more nervous. If Buffy looked nervous, it looked like Willow was about to fly apart from sheer tension.

_Okay, chances are, they compared notes after dinner, and they really don't like what they've seen,_ Xander thought, and for a moment, had a sudden urge to just turn around and leave. He wasn't making any effort to hide his relationship with Spike, but he also didn't want to have to explain it...justify it. "I was wondering if we could patrol with you tonight, Buffy...Gunn's been wanting to see a Slayer in action," Xander said.

Gunn nodded. "Yeah, what do you guys usually run into around here...town looks pretty quiet."

Buffy shrugged. "Vamps mostly, demons trying to open the Hellmouth...the usual apocalypse stuff, you?"

"Not so much with the apocalypse stuff, lots of demons, some vamps." Gunn shot her his patented "you're shitting me," look. "You do a lot of demons? I thought you were a specialist or something... _Vampire_ Slayer," he said, in a challenging voice.

Buffy's eyes narrowed, and then she smiled brightly. "Gee, I'll have to use that argument the next time a Junak tried to take my head off with a battle-ax ... _not_."

Gunn grinned. "Yeah, they aren't much for reasonable conversation, are they? So, if you don't mind my asking, just what _is_ a Slayer?" Gunn nodded to Xander. "Xander was a bit light on the details, when he was goin' over that."

Xander snorted. "Because you were more or less radiating 'unimpressed.'"

Gunn shrugged, unconcerned. "Yeah, well, you just said she was this chick that killed vampires. Takes more than that to impress me, me and my friends do that, _without_ super powers." Again with the challenging look, sparks seemed to fly from Buffy's eyes at the comment, or at the challenge.

Meanwhile, Willow was giving him little "come here, come here" gestures, the worried look on her face growing more intense. Xander was torn between going over to Willow and talking to her before she exploded, or monitoring the escalating "discussion" between Gunn and Buffy, but only for a moment. He exchanged a quick glance with Gunn, then  followed after Willow. She led him into a back room that turned out to be Buffy's training room, where she stood there looking at him with big green eyes, biting her lower lip. "Willow, what's wrong?" He asked.

She took a deep breath. "Xan, w-we've been friends for like ever, and I know you did what you thought was best in letting us think you died, but I still think of you as my best friend, and I can't help being worried about you. So even though it's none of my business..." She trailed off, and looked up at him nervously.

Xander fought the smile that was fighting to curl up the corners of his mouth. He'd almost forgotten what Willow-babble sounded like. "Yes?" He said, trying not to smile. 

"Well, I worry. You know I worry, right?" She looked at him, obviously expecting a response, so he nodded. "...And I've always worried when I thought you might be in trouble, and I don't know that you _are_ in trouble now, so I have to do the best friend thing and check, 'cause best friends care about each other, and I just couldn't live with myself if I didn't." Willow paused to take a breath, and before Xander could say anything to reassure her, she was off again. "I mean, if you were in trouble, and I didn't ask, and it turned out that you needed my help, and I'd never offered 'cause I didn't know cause I didn't ask. So I'm asking--" She peered up at him uncertainly. 

Conflicted, again. Willow was concerned, and th _at's_ all it was, worry, and fear for him. But in some way, it was also fear _of_ him, how he might react, maybe. _Have I really changed that much?_ So much so, that his best friend was looking as if she thought he might yell at her? Xander smiled, in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. "Asking if I need help?" He asked, as if he didn't quite understand all the underlying issues that practically screamed at him between the lines of Willow's speech. "With what?"

Willow fidgeted. "With, well, anything..." She trailed off, and bit her lip.

"Are you...okay?"

_That_ of course, was the real question, hidden under all the babbling. _Are you okay?_ Which was code for anything from "are we still friends?" to the more obvious "are you sure you don't need my help?" Xander nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," he paused. "Are you?" _Am I looking for her approval? Or just her understanding?_

Willow looked relieved, but still uncertain. "Sorta....Maybe." Her gaze flicked downward, then up. "You're sure? With everything?" There was a very faint blush creeping up her cheeks, and Xander had no doubt in his mind what aspects of his relationship with Spike had been uncovered. "I mean...I know how he looked at you last night, and the way you looked at him, but...Spike?" The concerned, confused look was back in full force,Xander had to swallow the laugh that was threatening to escape.

"Oh," he said with an expression of feigned enlightenment. "You wanted to know about _Spike_....or, _me_ and Spike."

Willow fidgeted more. "Umm...both?" She asked, somehow seeming both timid and determined at the same time... _and who does_ that _remind me of?_ Xander thought. The hair was red and straight, not black, but there was something in the way Willow acted that reminded him more than a little of Fred.

"Are you...is everything okay in Xander land?" Willow continued. "I mean, Spike was always, 'grrr big bad, here!'" She said, roughly approximating Spike's accent. "Only, now he...isn't, but he was before ...but you um...care about him, and that's of the good, right?"  

Xander laughed. "I missed you Wills, you know that?" Willow smiled shyly at him, and he suddenly, desperately wanted to hug her. Instead, he smiled. "I care about him, he...took care of me," Xander said softly. "Things were looking scary in Xanderland for a while, but then they got better, okay?"

Willow nodded, accepting what he said, without asking for further details, then she frowned, a very stern, and determined sort of frown. "But if anything happens, you'll tell me, right?" She asked. "And no more disappearing tricks!"

"No more disappearing tricks," he said, and this time, he _did_ hug her, and with no hesitation on her part, she hugged him back. Tightly, like she was afraid that he _would_ disappear again, if she didn't hang on to him.

They stood like that, arms wrapped around each other for several minutes, before Willow pulled away slightly, to look up at him with another worried frown. "Um...another question?"

"Sure. Shoot."

Willow looked nervous. "He...wasn't munching on the locals, was he?"

 

> **Haven't killed anyone lately, pet.**

 

"For the first few weeks," Xander said softly. "I honestly couldn't tell you. I don't remember."

Willow looked sad. "And...later?"

"Later, he said he wasn't killing, that he was looking," he paused, "looking for people...who wanted to be bitten."

"L-like Riley?" Willow asked hesitantly.

Xander couldn't place the name for a moment--then remembered. Riley Finn, member of the organization that had cut open Spike's head, and implanted the chip. Dead now...heart attack or something. _Too bad, would have liked to have a "talk" with him, about the chip._ "Yeah, like Riley."

Willow nodded. "Oh, okay. I... I didn't think... I mean, you being dark avenger and all, I didn't think he would, um, act like... well, like someone you would have to stop." She paused, and looked up at him for a moment.

Xander grinned. "I wasn't 'dark avenger' at the time," he laughed. "And don't let Linds or Gunn hear you say that, or I'll never hear the end of it." He bit his lip, then took a deep breath before continuing. "I wasn't anything more than a fucked up kid. Spike was--" Xander shook his head. "I don't know _why_ Spike was actually volunteering not to kill...just that he was..."

 

> **I'm not killing...I won't.**
> 
> **Why not?**
> 
> **Made a promise, and I keep my promises.**

 

"You really love him, don't you?" It was more of a statement, than a question, as she looked up at him with a small smile.

Xander grinned. "Yeah. Even if half the time, I have to kick his ass."

The full Willowsmile bloomed on her face, as she hugged him again. "Oh,I'm so happy for you!" Not quite a squeal, but close, Xander laughed, and hugged her back.

"So you're okay with the evil undead boyfriend?" Xander asked, grinning so hard his cheek muscles were starting to ache. "Cool. The gang usually won't even admit that they actually _like_ him."

Willow looked up at him, amused. "I didn't say that--yet. I need to talk to him first." She moved away, and went over to the wall next to the door, picking up a large shovel she had apparently left there earlier. "Where can I find him?" She asked, with a determined gleam in her eye.

For a moment, the only thought in Xander's head was _Huh?_ Then he grinned wickedly. "Ummm...Wills? No offense, but I'm the only one that disciplines my boyfriend--okay?"

She gave him a peel-the-paint glare. "It's just a visual prop--for now. He is _way_ overdue for the shovel talk." Then she blushed, as she realized what he'd just said.  

Xander smirked. "Ummm...Wills? Spike's already gotten the shovel speech times three...Lins, Doyle and Kate have all taken their turns," Xander explained, still smirking. Then, with an evil look in his eye, he said, "...and even without that, he's already spent a month chained to the bed, while we...discussed the direction our relationship should go in...

Willow blushed more brightly. "I...think that was maybe more than I needed to know," she said quickly. Still flushing, she bravely squared her shoulder, looking him right in the eye, still determined to do her duty as a friend. "...And if he's already had it three times, then once more won't hurt."

"Yes, but you won't be the one hearing him whine about it for a week afterward," Xander said reasonably--the reasonable tone that would have warned Lindsey, Doyle or Kate that Xander was up to something, but Willow didn't hear it. "I'd have to do something...drastic to get him to stop," Xander said, innocently, and pretended to think about it. "On second thought, go ahead." Xander smiled malevolently.

Willow somehow managed to blush even redder. "Um...right. So where--?"

"Our hotel room," Xander said with a malevolent purr. "However, he isn't really isn't able to answer the door, I could give you the key-card though," he offered sweetly.

Willow gasped, and stared at him in horror. "Umnothat'sokayI'llwaittillhegetsheretonight!" She said in high-speed babble mode.

Xander gave his friend a wide eyed, innocent look. "What? He's _asleep_. The guy sleeps like a log."

Willow's eyes narrowed in a "you are _so_ dead" glare. Xander continued to look innocent, giving her his most charming smile. "Now, speaking of Spike, I'd like to ask Giles a few questions concerning chains and bath tubs..."

Willow hrumphed, and put the shovel down. "You just make sure he has the chance to talk to me tonight," she said. "I think Giles is in his office."

"I will," Xander said, grinning, and left in search of the Watcher's office. It wasn't hard to find, since the door was open, with a hidden grin, Xander wondered if Giles had been listening in on his and Willow's conversation, or on the discussion still going on between Gunn and Buffy. From what he could hear of it, Gunn and the Slayer were now talking about weapons. Giles was sitting at his desk drinking tea, and reading--not some huge dusty tome though, instead, he was reading _The Onion Girl_. Xander entered the room.

"Hey Giles."

Giles looked up from his book, and smiled. "Xander."

"Had a little talk with Willow," Xander said casually. "Is there anything you wanted to know?"

"Ah, yes. I thought she might talk to you," Giles said in an unruffled tone. "I didn't believe her fears were well-founded, but..." Giles shrugged.

"Yeah, If I were in her place, I'd be asking questions too," Xander said, then smirked. "Is there anything *I* should know? Like about bath tubs? And chains?" 

Giles continued to look unruffled, but there was a slight hesitation to his voice. "Er...yes, I did in fact keep Spike chained up in the bathtub."

Xander grinned. "I know, he complained about it for a week." He let the faintest leer come into his voice as he said it. Instead of getting ruffled, Giles looked amused. "But that isn't the main reason I'm here," Xander said in a more serious tone.

"Which would be?" Giles asked curiously.

Xander took a breath. "I want to see him. I want to see Angelus."

 

* * *

 

The anticipation was killing him.

 

> **I'm really begining to get that "pain is beautiful" thing, Angelus.**
> 
>  

Angelus sat curled in his corner of the cell, forehead pressed against his knees. The cell was in the basement of what appeared to be a magic shop. The work that had gone into this set was amazing. Cement beneath his bare feet, and cinderblock at his back. The musty smell of herbs, of magic, of books, the details of the bookcase that concealed the cage. Every thing just _perfect_ and real in appearance, and endowed with an authenticity that was incredible. _Practice makes perfect, after all,_ Angelus thought.

He wondered what the story was this time. He'd been told that Xander was dead...that usually meant that he'd return by the third act, as a vampire. Sometimes though, it only meant that Xander committed suicide. Which was it though?

When Xander was alive, he usually turned up, at the latest, by the end of the first. If human, Xander usually died, at the hands of Drusilla or Spike. If a vampire, Xander stalked, tortured and murdered everyone he cared about. If Xander had committed suicide, one of Xander's friends would kill him. No matter *what* happened though, Angelus would awaken in a room with no walls, hanging from a ceiling that wasn't there or strapped to a table, while Xander--as a vampire--tortured him.

Variations on a theme, repeated over and over again, with some Oscar winning performances from the demons who forced him through these endless scenarios. He would awaken on the floor in the mansion, not far from where Acathla had stood, mind empty of thought, operating on instinct and reflex until he was found and captured by "Buffy," her friends, or both. There would be a period of adjustment, where the doppelganger-demons would attempt to convince him of the reality of the illusion...then the illusion would slowly begin to crumble, and he'd end up where he started.

With Xander.

 

> **Well, well, well...finally found a way to shut the boy up. Isn't it a wonder, Dru?**

 

Always Xander.

_This time it's different, everything has changed. Surely this could not be hell!_ Liam's voice was hopeful. 

Angelus sneered. "You say that every damned time. And you're always wrong," he said aloud, addressing the opposite corner of the cell. There was no one there, Liam was a purely internal presence, but Angelus liked to pretend that the soul was a seperate, external being.

_This time I am certain of it!_

"As you were every other time," Angelus said mockingly. "And every other time, you were wrong, wrong, _wrong_."

He could feel the fury that wasn't his, imagined that the soul within was trembling with suppressed rage. Smirked. Baiting Liam was as good a way to pass the time between torments as any, since there was no one else to talk to, or argue with. He pretended that Liam was sitting in the opposite corner, glaring at him. Angelus' mental image of Liam was much younger than the demon remembered being--about thirteen, with hair that flopped into his eyes, escaping it's neat tail. White linen shirt, black trousers, and coat.

_Every other time,_ the apparition ground out between clenched teeth, _Buffy forgave us,_ this _time, she can barely look at us._

Angelus snorted. "They're always changing something, why not that?"

Liam glared. _Every time, it started as some sort of wish fulfillment...before they break us. What wishes are fulfilled_ this _time?_

"They aren't fulfilling your wishes?" Angelus snickered. "Let's see, they aren't fulfilling your wishes. Which leads you to believe that it's real. Which fulfills your wish that this be real," Angelus paused meaningfully. "Idiot. Fool. Simpleton."

Liam laughed, or maybe sobbed, tilting his head against the wall of the cell. The pain and grief on the boy's face was more real than his surroundings. Angelus felt the tightness in his own chest, and the watery sting of his tears. An unwilling sob escaped, before he could stop it. "Stop it! Stop it, damn you!" Angelus growled, jumping up to his feet to stand over Liam. Liam only laughed, a slight hysterical edge to his voice.

_Already damned. This is hell, after all._

Angelus growled again, and wiped at his tear-stained face. "So you admit this is hell?" He asked.

_I don't know,_ Liam said, looking up at Angelus. _It...feels so real, this time._ A half-mad, hollow laugh. _This hell is certainly more creative than anything invented by the Church!_

"Hell can be obvious, and it can be subtle, but one thing is certain, it's eternal," Angelus said in a low voice. "They'll never let us go."

Liam closed his eyes. "Never," Liam whispered aloud, his voice full of despair. "Never let us go." 

The wave of anguish that hit then was crippling. With a low cry, Angelus sank to his knees, and curled up into a shivering ball at Liam's feet. He was in the room again. The room to where he was always taken, after the demons became bored with their game. The room where one of the last of his victims took his revenge, over and over again. Where everything was simple, and he didn't have to think, just feel. "Stop...stop it!" Angelus shouted. "Please..."

 

> **The pain got good to you, didn't it, Angelus? Just like you said it would to me...**

 

Angelus became aware, eventually, of the sounds of footsteps on the stairs. Giles. And someone else, both quietly talking. Familiar voice.

_He's here. It's him..._ Liam whispered.

Xander.

_So he's alive after all,_ Angelus thought. _Or they've changed the plot._ This Xander was a few years older than the one that was usually casted, a young man who was nearly Angelus' size, though not quite as big across the shoulders. His hair was longer than he remembered it being, and he wore an earring in his left ear, and a mustache. He was too bronzed by the sun to be a vampire, and not submissive enough to be a pet.

_Not submissive at all,_ Liam thought, eyeing the grim young man. 

"Just a variation on a theme," Angelus said aloud.

"So, what's the story?" Xander asked, his eyes never leaving Angelus' face.

"He's...not completely coherent, much of the time," The Giles demon said to Xander, with a trace of hesitation in his tone.  "He talks to himself, or they talk to each other..."

Xander looked toward Giles. "They?"

"They," Giles said, and then paused. "He...appears to have acquired some sort of...dissociative disorder, perhaps as a result of a-a demon and a soul residing within the same body for such a long subjective time, in...hell." Giles explained.

_This is boring._

_Don't start anything!_

Angelus smirked at Liam. "I'll do what I please, boy," he said aloud. He rose to his feet, approaching the bars of the cage. "Isn't that right, Xander?" He said in a low, purring voice. Xander's only reaction was a minute tensing of his shoulders, a narrowing of his eyes, and the faintest trace of discomfort. _Not the vampire, but not the pet_ , Angelus thought, confused and annoyed by the change in casting. Where did they get _this_ result, out of all possible variations? He could smell Spike on this Xander--perhaps Spike had beaten a spine into him? Spike was the sort of person who would be amused by an aggressive slave, but why not simply turn him?

"I wouldn't go there, if I were you, Angelus," Xander said quietly. "You really don't want to piss me off." 

Angelus smirked. He was getting to this doppelganger, he could sense the sudden spike of adrenalin that must be rushing through Xander's veins. He lunged forward quickly, just to see if he could make the doppelganger jump. Instead of cringing, or flinching, Xander grabbed Angelus' arm, and hauled it forward, causing the vampire to slam into the bars of the cage. Angelus grunted in pain as Xander twisted the arm against the bars of the cage,  pulled a palm-sized cross out of his pocket,  and pressed it against the inner arm, over the elbow.  Angelus howled, more in outrage than pain. He tried to pull loose, but couldn't quite manage the leverage.

"Xander!" The Giles doppelganger said, in a horrified sounding voice.

"You don't pull that kind of shit with me, Angelus," Xander snarled, pressing harder against smoking, frying flesh.  "I am _not_ afraid of you."  Xander growled and released Angelus' arm.

Angelus scuttled back, mind momentarily blank with panic. The white room, already? Was it the human Xander's turn to torment him now? Why was Giles still here? He looked around wildly for Liam. Liam was still in the corner of the cell, the corner farthest from the bars of the cage. Was this a new part of the game? He was usually alone in the white room, except for Xander. He pressed against the back wall of the cage. Watched. Waited.

The Giles-demon's hand was on Xander's shoulder. "Xander, he's not in his right mind--"

Xander shook the hand off, transferring his glare from Angelus, to the other demon. "He wasn't in his right mind before," Xander said coldly. "There is no way in _hell_ I'm going to let him get away with trying to intimidate me."

The Giles-demon frowned. "I understand the necessity of... restraining his behavior," he said in a placating tone. "Usually though, a harsh word is quite sufficient."

Xander laughed, a slight, hysterical edge to his voice. "A harsh word from me? Not very effective, trust me on this." Angelus could hear the rasp of Xander's breath, the thudding of his heartbeat. But what had been arrousing a thousand years ago, now left a bile taste in the back of his throat.  His arm throbbed with pain, and he cradled it against his chest, not taking his eyes off of Xander.  This wasn't the boy, and it wasn't the vampire--had they voted on which it would be, and it came out as a tie? 

"Xander?" The Giles-demon asked, sounding concerned and a little wary.

"I'm fine," Xander said, though there was a shakiness to his voice. "Bad mental place." He shook his head. "I need to get back upstairs and think...I've seen what I needed to see," Xander turned, and started back up the stairs. After a moment, Giles followed after.

Leaving Angelus alone. "No," he whispered, too quietly for the two retreating doppelgangers to hear. "Not alone, never alone."

 

* * *

 

Boy was talking about the moon. Or Drusilla. Soft mutterings as he drifted in and out of sleep in the back seat of the car. Xander thought the moon was following them, that she was looking for them. Drusilla or the moon, and maybe one was the other, in the boy's head, maybe he'd taken a look too deep into Dru's eyes and had fallen all the way to the bottom. 

Maybe his wits had crumbled to dust along with Dru--and don't think about that. Don't think about Dru being dead. Don't think of a box full of ash presented to the Slayer as if it were the ashes of her best friend. Don't think about the stricken madness in her eyes as she clutched the rosewood box to her chest. Turn and run from the berserker scream, which chased him down the hall, and to the car. Get in get in get in and get out.

Out.

Running down dust choked hallways, breath burning in his throat lungs. (But he didn't need to breathe.) Heart hammering in his chest (why was his heart beating?) Scrabbling and pounding on doors and finding every one of them locked, trying to get to Xander, before it was too late. He came to the last room, at the end of the hall, and stumbled in. Dru, crooning some mad song as she choked the life from Xander.

"Dru! No, don't!" Spike shouted, and half fell out of bed.

The  cell phone was ringing. Shuddering, Spike rolled over, reached for his duster, and fished the cell phone out of a pocket. "Hello? William Boyd speaking--" he began, after hitting the talk button.

"He thinks he's still in Hell." Xander's voice on the other end of the line was strained.

Spike growled softly, immediately identifying that "he" as Angelus. Spike rolled onto his back. "Yeah, so? He's a nutter, and whatever happened to him that broke him? He deserved." Spike glanced at the clock. It was just an hour after noon.  "So, Giles filled you in?"

"Giles took me down to see him," Xander said flatly.

Spike sat up abruptly. "He _what_!?" He started looking around  for his clothes, currently scattered around the room, and a across the bed. There was an alley in back of the hotel with enough shade to keep him covered until he reached a manhole. From there, it'd be a quick run through the sewers to the cellar of the Magic Box. "I'll _kill_ the bastard!" He shouted, trying to pull on his pants with the phone cradled between cheek and shoulder. "I'll effing kill him!" 

"Spike, I asked him to take me down."

"You _what?!_ Are you insane?" He stood up and fastened his pants, then somehow managed to put his shirt on while still shouting into the phone. "What did that nutter say to you? Did he hurt you? Are you all right?"

"Spike, calm down. I needed to see him."

"No, you bloody well didn't!" Spike growled back.

There was a stifled laugh on the other end of the line. "It's sort of in the job requirement, Spike...parole officer, remember?"

"Well maybe I think he belongs on death row!" Spike growled.

Silence. Just the sound of Xander breathing. Spike swallowed, wondering if he'd gone too far, said too much. "Xan?" He asked tentatively, after a few minutes had gone by.

"You think I wouldn't rather see him dead?" Xander asked. 

"I think you should just kill him and be done with it." 

Silence, then. "I can't do that, Spike."

"Why _not_?" Spike demanded, and growled again, raking a hand through his hair. "Never mind, I've heard it before," he said when Xander started to tell him. "Angelus is mentioned in some moldy prophecy, and the lawyers definitely want to get in on that. Angelus has a destiny as a Champion, an' Whistler doesn't want Angelus offed, even if he _told you_ that you could kill him, if you thought you had to...been there, done that, didn't buy the t-shirt." With that, he ended the call, and turned off the cell phone before shoving it into his pocket.

 

* * *

 

 

After a thirty minute trip through the sewers, he entered the Magic Box's cellar.  He was about to head up the stairs when he heard a low, nasty chuckle from the cage. He turned toward the cage, growling. "What're you laughing about, wanker?" 

Angelus was crouched in a corner of the cage, smirking. "Saw your little pet today. He cleans up nice, doesn't he? You need to teach him a little more discipline though, that was always your weak point."

"He's got plenty of discipline. You're still around, aren't you?" Spike snarled. "Now me, I'd rather stake you and be done with it, so why don't you just shut the fuck up while you're ahead?"

Angelus laughed quietly, and stood, approaching the bars of his cage. "Always liked to play the big man, didn't you?" He sniffed, and the smirk grew even more evil. "I can smell him on you. Is he as sweet a fuck as I remember?"

"You have no idea, Angelus. He likes to play rough, and I like the way he plays," Spike said with a evil smirk, though inwardly, he was seething. No way in hell was he going to let the bastard push his buttons, not if he could help it.

Angelus flinched, his face going all soft, and regretful. "God above, hasn't he been through enough?"

"You should know, you put him through it," Spike shot back. The "Liam" portion of Angelus' fractured mind was totally unlike the rake Darla used to tell stories about. Younger. Softer somehow. Giles' theory was that the soul had been so traumatized by what had happened to it, that it had regressed to a much younger age, in an effort to distance itself from the demon. Spike's theory was that it was an elaborate con. Make the humans feel sorry for poor Liam, tormented by big bad Angelus. Make them pity Liam, who'd been a drunkard and a rake for most of his short life. 

Angelus smirked, "Liam" replaced by the demon. "I know, and the way this play is going, I may yet have another taste of him."

"Xan wouldn't fuck you if you begged him to." Spike shook his head, disgusted. "And why the hell am I talking to you, anyway?" He turned and started up the stairs.

Angelus laughed. "Fool, what made you think that it would be me doing the begging? I always loved the sound of his begging. Just think, you've given me the opportunity to break him all over again."

"Not going to happen, Angelus," Spike said, half turning and leaning against the rail. "Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that twisted up head of yours. But mostly? I don't care." He headed up the stairs. Angelus howled, and ran at the bars, but whatever he was screaming was cut off by the sound proofing spell Red had set up before Spike had gotten half way up the stairs. 

There were two conversations going on up in the shop. One was Buffy and Gunn, talking about weapons and demon slaying in an amiable, challenging manner that made Spike think of a tiger critiquing a lion's hunting style. The other conversation rambled from one topic to another, then settled on Lindsey. "So, you're a sorcerer--and a lawyer? How did that happen?" Willow was asking as Spike reached the head of the stairs. Spike quietly shut the cellar door, but didn't go into the main area. Instead,  he stood listening in the hallway.

"It had to do with the law firm I was in," Lindsey said after an uncomfortable pause. "It was a requirement to have at least a working knowledge of the arcane."

"Indeed? And why was that?" Giles asked curiously.

"Wolfram and Heart are lawyers from hell--literally. They specialize in black magic, the black market, the illegal, and the unethical," Xander interjected. "They got a finger in every pot in LA, except maybe actual pot, which mostly comes from Berkeley."

"I won't say I didn't know what I was getting into," Lindsey said after a long pause. "I did, but when I realized that I was in over my head--I left."

"That must have been--difficult, if this firm is all that Xander says it is," Giles said in a neutral tone of voice.

"That's putting it mildly, Watcher." Spike said, exiting the hallway, and slouching into one of the chairs. He smirked maliciously. "Seeing as how the reason he ran was because he was a little squeamish about arranging to have some kids killed," he said casually, tilting his chair back, and giving the ex-lawyer a challenging look. Lindsey looked away, jaw tense.

Willow looked horrified. "Kids? Killed?"

"That's Wolfpiss and Heartless for you," Xander interjected. "These kids had powers--and because there was no way that WH would have been able to control or use them, they decided to use one of their...operatives, I guess you could call her, and have them killed. Lindsey's job would have been to keep her out of prison." Xander gave Spike a *look* and continued.

"The agency was just getting started, and we'd already annoyed WH a time or two, when Lindsey showed up, wanting my help." He looked at the ex-lawyer, and made a little gesture, turning the story back over to Lindsey.

"We were able to save the kids, but my boss, Holland, found out about it--"

"And about the same time, found out some things about Xan from yer barrister girlfriend," Spike interjected.

Lindsey flushed angrily. "Lilah was _not_ my girlfriend."

"Well you were shag--oof!" Suddenly, the chair was yanked back, and he was spilled onto the floor. Spike shot back up with a growl, then winced in pain as the chip went off.

"If I was, it's none of your goddamn business, Spike," Lindsey snapped back in a low, vicious tone. 

"Oh, it's my business all right--seein' as how most of the information she had on Xander came from _your_ damn files!" Spike shouted. They might have been alone in the room, from the silence that fell in the store. Buffy and Gunn looked up from their conversation, the only two customers in the store exited hastily, obviously not wanting to be involved with the eruption.

"Old business," Gunn and Xander said simultaneously. Gunn to Buffy, when she started to move toward the table, Xander to Giles and Willow, as he got up and moved away to the table. Spike hardly noticed the Watcher and the witch getting up to follow Xander, focussed entirely on the ex-lawyer.

"That is _not_ my fault. How long do you think you could have sat on the information anyway?" Lindsey shot back.

"A whole hell of a lot longer, if you hadn't practically given that bint all the information she needed to find!"

"I did not _give_ her the goddamned information. All she had to do was go down to Records, put two and two together, and hack into my computer," Lindsey growled back.

"What was it doin' on your computer in the first place? Tell me you weren't going to use it on Xander. That you weren't gonna try usin' Xan as bait or something to bring Angelus in."

Lindsey's eyes lowered, unconsciously submissive. "I would have. You know I would have--but I didn't, I _couldn't_." Still angry, but softly.

"Only for lack of opportunity," Spike said, but the words lacked heat. The tight coil of anger was begining to loosen. It wasn't Lindsey he was angry at, it was the bastard downstairs, in the cage.  What was it called? Transference? _That's it, I've been reading too many of them damn books_.

"No," Lindsey said forcefully, then, in a more soft tone, so that the others couldn't hear, Spike realized. "You know why."

Spike growled, softly. His boy coming home in the morning, smelling of the lawyer. Lindsey asking him if he was afraid of losing Xander, smirking all the while. Challenging him. His boy, months later, smirking while he explained the new rules. "Yeh. I know." He tilted his head. "Truce, before Xan kicks both our asses?"

Lindsey smirked a little. "Truce."

Xander made the usual apologies (and whispered threats that he and Lindsey had better cut it out, _right_ now, before someone got their ass kicked.) Everything went back to nearly-normal, just a happy family reunion, with Xander looking happier than he had since he'd heard that Angelus was back.

Spike retreated to the counter next to the register and leaned up against it, keeping Buffy quiet company. Xander meanwhile talked to Giles and Willow, Gunn and Lindsey offering their own comments or stories. Every so often, Xander would look up and smile in his direction, making Spike think ridiculous, fatuous things about those looks. Warm, comfortable proud thoughts, when he thought about how far Xander had come.

He hadn't known what to do about the boy at first. Nightmares every night for weeks for both of them, Xander clinging to him like a shadow. It had been a little like taking care of Dru, when she was at her worst. 

Limits. Boundaries. Things Spike wasn't good at providing, except for Dru. Spike set up the rules, made the boy a schedule to follow and felt like a fool buying books on the advice of scrawny, multi-pierced shop girls.

Strange, terrifying time, for the both of them.

"So, what's between you and that guy, Lindsey?" Buffy asked quietly after ringing up a customer's purchase.

"What, weren't you listening? He's a smarmy little lawyer git, that nearly got Xander killed," Spike said, giving her a look that would have frightened just about anyone, except Buffy. Bloody oblivious bint.

"Xander seems to trust the guy," Buffy commented. "Enough to be working with him, anyway."

"Slayer, Xan don't really trust anyone," Spike said in a condescending voice. He almost, almost regretted the flinch. I'm definitely getting soft. Soft headed, soft hearted. Buffy blamed herself for what Xander had gone through five years ago. Xander blamed himself for what he'd gone through five years ago. If it wasn't for the chip, he'd slap them both up side the head until they saw reason. "The lawyer's a git, but Xander likes him."

"Which brings us around to the original question, what's between you and Lindsey?" Buffy asked.

_Xander_ , Spike thought. "History, Slayer, history."

Buffy frowned at him, but didn't push. Spike knew it was only a matter of time. There were too many questions, about him, about Xander, and Buffy wanted answers.

 

* * *

 

"You know what I hate more than this cast, B? It's being left out of the loop," Faith said, lifting the twenty pound dumbbell with her good arm without even a hint of strain. Buffy meanwhile, was doing bench presses. "I mean, there's this guy, who's absence left this huge black hole in your life--St. Xander, the Martyr of Sunnydale, complete with holy relic--and I haven't even met the guy yet. Not feeling the love here, B."

Buffy felt a little stab of guilt at that, but covered with a glare. "We weren't sure how he'd react to a new face," Buffy said, but the excuse was lame, and they both knew it.

Faith half turned, and gave Buffy an 'are you shitting me?' look. "You think St. Xander doesn't already know everything about me, courtesy of Spike playing 'I Spy' for the past few years? Pull the other one, it has bells on." Buffy giggled, and Faith's eyes almost crossed as she realized what she said. "That's it, it's official, I've spent way too much fucking time with Wesley." 

Time came, during the patrol that night. Buffy found an excuse to split him off from the group. Spike let her, walking companionably enough by her side. She was quiet, though that wasn't unusual. Thoughtful, and casting odd little glances his way, like she was hoping he'd speak first. He on the other hand, had no intention fo being the first to speak. If Buffy wanted to know, then she needed to earn the privilege.

He was just thinking she wasn't going to ask after all, when she finally turned to him after staking a new vampire just hauling itself out of its grave. "Whose ashes were in that box, Spike?" Low and soft as she brushed the grit off of her skirt.

Spike stopped, sat on a headstone. "Get right to the point, don't you, Slayer?" Just as softly. "Dru. It was Dru."

He looked away. "Had it in my head that if I just knocked her out, I could talk sense into her later--she just--twisted around in my arms like a cat and--" Spike fell silent.

Buffy stared at him, confused, and then stunned, "you mean you--" she cut herself off. "I--" The natural thing would have been to say 'I'm sorry,' except she wasn't. She could not be sorry for Dru's death, however it might have hurt Spike to have killed her. That it _had_ hurt him, she had no doubt, Spike wasn't even trying to hide the grief he felt, and it was that grief which paradoxically caused her to believe that his feelings for Xander were true. "You love him," she said softly. "You really love him, don't you?"

Spike looked amused, exasperated. "Yeh.  I do."

Buffy sat down on a convenient gravestone. "How did you two?" She frowned for a moment, and shook her head. "I never would have guessed at you and Xander as a couple."

"Not sure you're ready for those details, Slayer," Spike said. "It's a bit gruesome."

Buffy looked grim. "I know what happened to him, Spike. I want to know what happened with the two of _you_."

"During or after?" Spike asked, head tilted in slight inquiry.

"Both," Buffy whispered.

"It's only half mine to tell, Buffy," Spike said quietly. "I took care of him, he took care of me, even when it would have been easier not too. Never expected that. Never expected to care for him. You know what Angelus did to him, you can probably guess what Angelus did to me--and Xander took care of me through that, so I had to return the favor, didn't I?"

Buffy looked haunted. "He must have been--" She trailed off, falling silent for a moment.

"I took care of him." Spike said, and wondered how much truth she was capable of hearing, just now. How Xander had been, what it had been like, taking care of someone who'd been worse off in his own way than Dru at her most fragile. The nightmares, the worry, the fear that somehow he was just making things worse--how the world had narrowed down to the day to day struggles with the demons in the boy's head. "He wasn't right in his head, at first, and the only sure thing he wanted was to get the hell out of Sunnydale--and I was more than willing to go along with it." Spike gave himself a mental shake, not wanting too dwell to much about _that_ aspect of his early relationship with Xander--and truthfully, he didn't want _Buffy_ brooding about it either. "Anything else you wanted to know, Slayer?" 

Buffy shook her head. "I--no. Nothing I can put in words," she said. She gave him a quick glance. "And nothing that wouldn't embarrass the hell out of me to ask." She flushed.

Spike smiled. "Fair enough. You have any questions, best take them up with Xander."

Buffy nodded. "I will."


End file.
